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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845672">Lonely Songs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDeryn/pseuds/CaptainDeryn'>CaptainDeryn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Deryn's Fictober 2020--Through the Pages [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings Online</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Post-War of the Ring, grieving process, loss of mother, music as a form of coping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:29:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDeryn/pseuds/CaptainDeryn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Music is as intrinsic part of Raenor. But when remembering starts to fade the real person behind the memory, he falls away from it, much to Faewryn's concern.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Deryn's Fictober 2020--Through the Pages [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lonely Songs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>TW for implied loss and grief</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Day 4: </span>
  <span>“that didn’t stop you before”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was one thing that he was known for, it was Raenor’s ability to string word and chord together into something brighter than sunlight and warmer than a parent’s hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were few times Faewryn could remember when her father did not have his lute in hand and a song on his tongue. It was as natural to the image of her father in her mind as the way he plaited his hair or the way his eyes crinkled with each smile. A simple, intrinsic part of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To find him unwilling to share the music that he lovingly crafted was unusual at best, downright concerning at worst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you want to sing it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>atar</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Faewryn asked. She eased herself down onto the cushions beside him, careful not to disrupt the sheets of handwritten lyrics and music. Tucking her knees up under her chin and wrapping her arms around them she added, “From the pieces I’ve heard you trying it sounds beautiful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plucking at the strings in a series of sweetly lonely notes, Raenor signed, “It’s about your mother again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were dozens of songs discreetly, or not so discreetly, written about Wulfwryn that scrawled across his songbook. His love for her, her heroism, little pieces of her, the way their lives intertwined, were a beautiful part of her father’s works. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That hasn’t stopped you before.” Faewryn pointed out. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d run into her father ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanting to sing. He would omit some songs out of sensitivity for his audiences or if they were becoming old, but she’d never seen him reluctant to share one at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she was sitting within a hand’s width of him, his silence stretched long enough that her certainty that he had heard her wavered. Maybe he was so lost in his own thoughts that her words had flowed right past him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he stirred, shaking his head. Still, he did not look at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The more I write of her and sing of her,” he said with a soft agony. “The less I feel and see of the real woman I love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice broke. “She’s dissipating further and further into wisps of memory. The life of her is going up like smoke.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart throbbed, her stomach dropping to her feet. No, in fact it felt as though both happened at once with her stomach twisting when it hit the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How was she to comfort the man who always comforted her? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At a loss, Faewryn offered softly, “Perhaps you could just sing it just for me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raenor grit his teeth, running his fingers over the strings of his lute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>harmahin</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” he sighed. But his eyes kept drifting to his instrument, fingers plucking restlessly in disjointed notes. As if not of his own will he picked up the lute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile he offered to Faewryn was only a slight lifting of the corners of his lips, “Perhaps it deserves to be listened to, just once.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just for us.” Faewryn agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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